


Crimefighting is No Place for a Bird

by grizzly



Category: Pitch Perfect (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, Non-Graphic Violence, superhero au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-29
Updated: 2013-08-15
Packaged: 2017-12-21 18:17:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/903366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grizzly/pseuds/grizzly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Beca Mitchell, the daughter of a well-known scientist, has returned to the city of Barden to rid it of crime under the superhero alias Falco. She is invited to join The Bellas, a group of superheroines, to assist in their shared goal of justice. </p><p>(A Pitch Perfect superhero au. I do not own the rights to Pitch Perfect.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

            “Get away from me! I have pepper spray and I’m not afraid to use it!” The woman’s shaky hand held the pepper spray at arm’s length.

            “Aw, come on, baby,” a man swatted it out of her hand, “it’s only our first date.”

            She scrambled backwards, trying not to trip on her heels in the dark alley. He continued to approach her, holding a hand out and wearing a sickening grin.

            “I think our date was good and you know how good dates end,” he spat and grabbed her arm, quickly pulling her close to him. His large hand skimmed her thigh. “If you don’t, I can show you.” He turned her around, making sure her back pressed against his front.

            She screamed, squirming in his arms. “Let me go! Please! I’ll give you anything! My purse is over there!”

            He sighed calmly. “Honey, I was trying to be nice, but really,” he pulled a switchblade out and dragged it against her neck, “Can you just shut up?”

            She tilted her head down all she could to try to see the knife without it cutting her. She gulped and shut her mouth.

            “Good. Let’s play the quiet game,” his hand inched further up her skirt.

            “I have a better game to play,” the silhouette of a figure stood at the foot of the alleyway. _Nailed it_ , she thought.

            “Kinda busy here,” the man said, without turning around, “Find another alley!”

            “Help me!” the woman yelled.

            “Well, I can’t deny a woman’s request,” the silhouette immediately plunged forward and shoved the man against a dumpster. She tossed the woman her purse, “Get out of here! I’ll take care of it!”

            After hearing the sound of the woman’s heels scurrying out of the alley, she turned to face the man. He shoved her off, throwing a swing to her face. Fortunately, she moved her head appropriately and blocked his punch with her arm.

            “Way to be a cockblock,” the man hissed.

            “You’re disgusting,” the obscure figure remarked before feeling man’s knees against her abdomen followed by the force pushing her backwards. As she caught her bearings, he searched for his knife on the street ground. She rushed forward again and then met his knife against her arm. She winced and grabbed the hand holding the knife and slammed it against the dumpster, forcing him to let go while also bruising his knuckles.

            “Wh-What are you?” the man stammered, fear filling his voice as he examined his bloodied hand.

            She grabbed him, shot a grapple gun to the roof of the building, and pulled them both up. Now, being able to be seen clearly in the moonlight, the previously silhouetted being was revealed to be a woman wearing a black skintight suit with a red bird-shaped logo above her breast, a cape shaped like wings, and a mask with a beak. Before being able to say anything else, he was knocked out with a punch.

            Beca pulled the mask back, taking a deep breath, and took a seat opposite of the man in the coma. She inspected the newest wound on her arm. It was deep, but there was no time to worry about it now. She wore the mask and grabbed handcuffs from her utility belt. After cuffing the man to a streetlamp below, she left a note for the cops:

“Got another rapist for you

                                                            Falco” 

        ===================================

            The sound of curtains raking against the railing matched with the sudden bright light peering into the bedroom was the last thing anyone would want after a night of fighting crime. And so, Beca pulled her blankets over her head and turned the opposite direction of the window.

            “Wakey wakey!” were also the last words anyone would want to here after a busy night.

            The only response she could consciously produce was a whine.

            “Come on! Up up! I even made breakfast for you!” Jesse pulled the blankets away, hoping the smell of waffles would awaken his master.

            “It’s too early for breakfast,” she grumbled into her pillow.

            “It’s actually too late for breakfast. It’s 2 in the afternoon.”

            “Too early to wake up.”

            “It’s too late for that too. You’re late for a press meeting about your upcoming single.”

            “Tell them to reschedule.”

            “I already did and that is why I am not only your ever-so obedient butler, but also your manager.” He smiled brightly like a dog being scratched behind the ear after successfully catching a frisbee.

            “Mmm yeah, if you’re so obedient,” Beca shielded her eyes with her fingers to look at him, “how about you close those curtains?”

            “No can do! Your whole life can’t be getting whooped all night and then sleeping all day. Falcons aren’t even nocturnal!”

            “Alright alright. If I get up, will you shut up?”

            “Hmmm… As much as you’ll miss my lovely conversation, I cannot refuse that deal.”

            Beca stood out of bed sorely, moved as quickly as she could to pull the curtains, and then hopped back into bed, laughing.

            Jesse tugged at the blankets. “Hey, you jerk! Get up!”

            “Your part of the deal was to shut up, my part was to just get up. You never said for how long,” the small woman continued laughing from under her blankets.

            He smacked her left arm and she yelped in pain. He stopped tugging at the blankets and she stopped resisting. “Bec, what did you do?”

            She brought her face out from under the blankets. “What?” She noticed his worried expression. “Nothing. It’s nothing.”

            “Beca!” Jesse shoved the blankets away and grabbed her wounded arm, “You promised you wouldn’t get hurt! You swore you were good enough to evade all punches!”

            “It wasn’t really a punch…”

            His worried look turned to shock. He squeezed her arm to keep her from pulling away and rolled her sleeve up, revealing the poorly done stitches on her bicep. “Jesus, Beca! That’s gonna get infected. I taught you how to sew stitches and I know I did _not_ teach you that!”

            She rolled her eyes. “In my defense, I sewed them while I was half asleep and racked on painkillers. At least I didn’t miss.”

            Jesse opened up the drawer in the nightstand by Beca’s bed and pulled out a first-aid kit. “If you’re not going to be responsible, then I can’t allow you to keep running around all night getting bruised and beaten.” He opened the first-aid kit, without the slightest expectation of Beca to protest. “Now, look at me. Good ol’ Jesse always coming to clean up after you and bandage your booboos. Just call me dad.”

            “Well, you’re better than my real dad ever was,” Beca looked away from him as he shot anesthetics into her arm.

            “Your dad is off saving the world with medicine and science. And… he left you with a large sum of money and a huge house. Honestly, I don’t see why you’re complaining.”

            Beca sighed and reached for the plate of waffles on the nightstand, hoping the sustenance would fill the emptiness she feels every single time her father comes up in a conversation. She then took the remote and turned on the TV to watch how the city is feeling about her present of multiple criminals waiting to be picked up all around the city of Barden.

 ===================================

            “That’s the fifth one so far. How many more do you think there are?” Chloe Beale, a reporter for _Barden Today_ questioned an officer.

            “I don’t know. I wish our mysterious Falco left us a map or something, but I guess that would be too easy,” Lieutenant Applebaum held the fifth Falco-signed note, running his finger along the falcon-shaped emblem on the backside of the note.

            “Are those the notes Falco leaves at every crime scene?” she furthered her questioning.

            “Yes,” the Lieutenant stuck them in Ziploc bag for evidence. “No more questions,” he trucked back to his car.   

 ===================================

            “Beale! My office, please!” the loud voice that instills fear around the floor of New New’s Magazine came from behind the door labeled “Chief Editor.”

             Chloe closed the door behind her quietly, and smiled, “Yes?”

             “I wanted to ask you about this Falco guy. Who is he? He runs around, assaulting people and sets them out for us to arrest.” Mr. Quinn sighed, “Basically, where are we on this story?”

             “We’re literally at square one. Falco does nothing but tie these bad guys up and leave notes saying who they are and—”

             “And how can we trust what the notes say? What if these are innocent people being arrested?”

             “Well, the cops haven’t said anything about them being innocent civilians. I think Falco’s just doing his thing, helping them out when they’re too lazy to do their own jobs. Is it still a crime if he’s beating up the bad guys? I mean, isn’t Falco technically a good guy, then?”

             “He doesn’t wear a badge. He’s under the law just like the rest of us civilians. Now, get me that story!”

 ===================================

            “You nailed that line!” Jesse announced enthusiastically after Beca gave him a play by play of all the events that transpired the night before.

            “Yeah. It was alright,” she shrugged.

            “Alright? Maybe. I know you’ve been working on composing some sort of witty line when you meet the baddies, and that was a good one.” He turned the TV off and said, “I too have been working on something.”

            “Is that so?”

            “Yeah. It’s downstairs. Like… down-downstairs… In The Nest.”

            “Yeah yeah, I got it. No more ‘subtle’ hints.”

            “Well then, let’s go!” He nearly jumped off the bed like a puppy ready for a walk and scampered out the door.

            “Ugh, slow down. I’m so sore!” Beca dragged her body to the door.

            “I told you to stretch more!” He yelled from down the hallway.

            Jesse waited for Beca next to the wall with the painting of a falcon on it. He pushed the bottom with his foot and the wall spun around, taking them into an elevator. At the bottom stood a large cave, with a giant computer, training equipment, and all things Falco-related.

            “Okay, this looks exactly how it did last night,” Beca squinted, scanning for any differences.

            “That’s because you can’t see what I’ve changed,” Jesse walked over to the computer, “Computer: On.” The screen lit up, shining on the two like stadium lights.

            “Wow, you can turn on a computer. That’s great!”

            “Shut up,” he nudged her injured arm.

            “Ow! Fuck you! You wanna fight?” She put her fists up playfully.

            “Beca, you’re like an ant to me. Come on.”

            “Hey, I’m the one who takes out guys twice as big as you every night.”

            “And I can just poke your left bicep,” Jesse turned to face the computer, “Show police reports within the last hour.” The computer began sorting out various 911 calls, highlighting the emergencies.

            “No way. You hooked up the nest to the Barden police department? That’s kickass.”

            “Told you you’d like it,” Jesse shrugged modestly.

            “There was a robbery 10 minutes ago… Can we get the security cam footage?”

            He sighed jokingly. “It’s never enough with you is it? I can get that up by tomorrow night. I’m thinking about setting up a way for us to communicate while you’re gallivanting so I can inform you of all the crimes around the city.”

            “Yeah, right. You’re just gonna watch your movies on this big screen and talk to me about them.”

            “Okay, I’ll just put Falcom down for ‘maybe.’”

            “Falcom?”

            “Falco-mmunication. Falcom.”

            “God. You’re so lame.”

            The two stood staring at the computer screen for a few moments.

            “So, are you gonna get dressed?” Jesse broke the silence.

            “Get dressed? I can’t go out as Falco in broad daylight. People will _see_ me.”

            “I meant civilian clothes, pajama girl. You’re playing a gig tonight, remember?”

            “Shit. Wait, will that—”

            “No. It does not conflict with your nighttime activities.”

 ===================================

             “Settle down, everyone,” Mr. Quinn called out. He stood at the front of the room; pictures of various “Falco crime scenes” were pasted on the whiteboard behind her. “So our  _vigilante_ , or Falco, if you will, has committed at least 64 acts of assault within the last week, racking up 9 last night. It’s clear he’s got some sort of skill for this job.”

             “I say Falco’s a myth!” a voice called out from the front row.

             “What’s that, Ananya?” the Chief glared down at him.

             “I’m just saying Falco doesn’t exist. It’s probably a bunch of people getting beaten up by a gang and the victims just happen to be criminals.”

             He squinted in confusion. “Well… Thank you for your contribution, but back on topic. Falco is working his way up from street level crimes to big level crimes, so if anyone has a lead on this story of who he is, please speak up and try not to sound like an idiot.” He glanced at Ananya.

             A new writer raised his hand and explained about how he’s seen cellphone pictures of Falco and read articles about the masked vigilante. This riled up the rest of the crew into sharing their stories, whether real or not. Chloe's phone began to ring as Mr. Quinn shooed everyone back to work.

             “You don’t think Falco’s a criminal, do you?” Chloe asked as soon as she picked up the call from her best friend.

             “So not what I wanted to talk with you about.”

             “O-kay,” Chloe’s grave expression became a lighthearted smile, “Problem at the law firm?”

             “No. But, given from what you just said, I think you need a break and I know of this club that’s featuring this DJ.”

             “Which DJ?”

             “DJ Mitchell? You know, Barden’s own Dr. Mitchell’s daughter. I haven’t heard any of her stuff, but she just came home from 4 years of whatnot and now she’s apparently a DJ.”

             “She disappeared for 4 years and came back as a DJ? That’s weird, isn’t it? I mean, Falco only started appearing recently. Or at least he started getting noticed recently…”

             “I can’t believe you’re still thinking about Falco! I’ll just pick you up tonight. This DJ better make you loosen up or else we’re just getting drunk.”

             “I hope some of your workmates are there so they can get a look at their strict boss having fun,” Chloe smirked.

             “Oh, shut up and get back to work!” Aubrey chuckled mockingly.

 ===================================

             Club Barden opened nearly 3 months ago and the guy who ran the place decided to celebrate 3 months of success by having a well-known DJ headline. Surely, people really only went there to dance and drink, but he knew that not only the music nerds would come watch this set, but also the press yearning to know the scoop on Beca Mitchell’s reappearance in the city.

             “Where have you been, Beca?” “How’s your father?” “Are you planning on following in his footsteps?” “Four years is a long time. What have you been up to?” All these questions and more ambushed Beca as she walked behind Jesse, hiding her face under large sunglasses and a hood. She wheeled her equipment into the club, successfully dodging every paparazzo who spoke more than 2 words to her.

             “And you must be DJ Mitchell. You look so grown up since the last time anyone saw you in the city! You can call Mr. Carter. I’m the owner of this club,” he moved in to shake her hand. “Can I get you anything? A drink?”

             “Can’t,” Beca pointed to the equipment with her other hand, “Gotta stay sober for the set unfortunately.”

             “And I’m Jesse,” he cut in between the two, reaching his hand out for a shake as well, “her manager. We spoke on the phone while we scheduled this gig.”

             Mr. Carter took his hand. “Ah yes! How could I forget? Can I get _you_ a drink?”

            “I have no reason to refuse,” Jesse smiled smugly at Beca and she flipped him off while turning to walk away.

            “Oh wait, Ms. Mitchell!” Mr. Carter called after her, “Where you’ll be performing is in there,” he pointed to a black box. “The windows are tinted. You can see the people, but they can’t see you. Really adds to the atmosphere of this place. You get in around the back over there,” he swung his arm to point at the door near the bathrooms.

            “Anonymity. Just what I need right now,” Beca made sure to catch Jesse’s eyes.

            “Um… Excuse me, Mr. Carter. I’ll just help Beca set up and meet up with you for that drink later.” Jesse ran over to Beca and picked up some of her gear.

            When the two entered the black box, Jesse gently placed the effects sampler and the keyboard on the table. “Anonymity, huh? What’s that for?”

            “You know. Paparazzi and stuff,” Beca slipped her laptop out of her backpack and a glove of her Falco costume slipped out. She quickly stuffed it back in, hoping Jesse saw none of it.

            “Please don’t tell me that was a piece of Falco,” Jesse’s voice turned into a whisper.

            “Okay, I won’t,” Beca turned the laptop on.

            “Dammit, Beca! What are you doing? There are going to be so many people out there and let’s say something happens. Are you just going to change into Falco and run out? Suddenly, Falco is running outside of the place where only Beca Mitchell is supposed to be. Do you want to get caught?”

            “Hey, it’s just in case. I have control of the lights too. I can just shut them off and run out.”

            “And who will man the set?”

            “I’ll just put my playlist on shuffle or something. No one will notice.”

            Jesse relaxed his shoulders and let go of his breath, knowing that his friend’s stubborn attitude was useless to fight against.

 ===================================

            The floor was as packed and the bar no less. Mr. Carter watched from his office above.

“She’s a good DJ, isn’t she?” he turned to ask his guests. “She brought a lot of people here tonight. I’m close to paying you back, Zarconi.”

            “Don’t forget interest, Carter. Your debt has raised 25% since we last met,” the mobster sat on the couch, holding a scotch.

            “What? I can’t pay for that! I own a club for God’s sake!”

            “You should have considered that before you borrowed my money and swore you’d pay it all back. All of it. And I expect that by the time we meet again,” he stood up, his bodyguard following. Before stepping out the door, he took a sip of his drink and said, “Randy, give Mr. Carter a little motivation.”

            Randy, the refrigerator-sized body guard, turned around and played with the rings on his fingers. He approached Mr. Carter slowly, raising a fist.

 ===================================

            “I’m gonna get a drink,” Chloe yelled over the loud music to her friend. After seeing Aubrey nod in agreement, Chloe slid away from the man she was grinding against and made her way for the bar. She sat down after requesting her drink and watched Aubrey move with the music. She hardly sees her friend have fun, especially since the increase of unusual activity in Barden and the need to be the first to report it in their newspaper. It was nice that Aubrey was the one who offered for a night out this time and even had somewhere to go instead of their usual “stay in, order delivery, and watch TV” activity.

            Chloe took a sip from her drink and turned her gaze from her friend to the black box. Though it was tinted, she could see a silhouette of a figure, presumably the DJ, bobbing her head to the music. Chloe squinted to try and get a better sense of the shape until she felt her phone buzz in her clutch. She maneuvered through the dance floor before making it to the back of the club and picked up the call.

            “Hey Ms. Beale, sorry for calling, but uh… is that music in the background?” the voice of her usual photographer partner could hardly beat the music in the club.

            “Yeah… no. Why are you calling?” Chloe covered her phone hoping it would hide the sound of the music.

            “Um, well,” she could hear the smile in his voice, “I was going to tell you that there’s a situation on 110th street, but if you’re busy…”

            Remembering that the Club Barden was along 112th, Chloe knew she had to go. “What kind of situation?”

            “A Troublemakers situation.”

            “I’ll be there in a sec,” Chloe hung up and quickly scurried through the dance floor to look for Aubrey, noting the perfect timing for the lights to go out. She glanced at the black box, following the faintest light, and could no longer see the silhouette of the DJ.  

 ===================================

            “Man, Stretch, you ever wish you could run fast?” a young man ran over to a couple, snatched their wallets, and returned to his position at the foot of the sidewalk next to his Indian sidekick in a matter of seconds.

            “Nah, I think I’m good with being flexible, Split Second. The ladies love it,” the other reached his arm and it stretched a few feet to trip another man running away, then slipped his wallet out of his back pocket.

            The two ringleaders of the notorious group, The Troublemakers, started a show, causing traffic on the street. Known for mugging people, while simultaneously providing unwanted “entertainment,” was their style.

            “The jig is up, Troublemakers,” Benji called out, pointing his gun at them. He looked around the street, “Wait… where’s the rest of the group?”

            “Oh, don’t worry. They’re not doing anything tonight. We lost a bet, so we have to bring back the loot,” the fast one answered.

            “How about you just drop what you’ve stolen, and hop into these handcuffs?” Benji asked, taking small steps towards them.

            "That’s a joke, right?” The elastic one stretched his hand and knocked the gun out of Applebaum’s hand. 

            Split Second ran over in front of Benji and held his hands out. “Okay, you can take me, officer!” As the officer began to cuff him, the speedy villain ran off instantly. “Too slow!”

            The duo laughed mockingly.

            “Are you always fast?” Falco’s voice called out from on top of a roof, “‘Cause if you are, lemme just tell you now, that’s not very pleasurable.”

            The scared witnesses below looked up to the roof to match the voice with a face.

            “Show yourself!” Split Second yelled before a bola was thrown around his legs and he fell onto the concrete. “Hey! Help me get this off!”

            Stretch launched his arms over to his partner before another bola caught them. He reshaped his arms and slid out, “No, no, no. That doesn’t work on me!”

            “Then I hope this does,” Falco’s feet met his torso, and she relied on her weight to push him against a car. Falco held him there, checking to see if it did indeed work, before being thrown back against another car.

            Split Second appeared in front of her. “So you’re the one they call Falco, eh?”

            Falco turned to look at a stunned Lieutenant Applebaum. “Dude! You were supposed to cuff him, not let him untie himself and run free!” She felt a sharp blow to her gut and turned back to see the fast one’s grin. She attempted to escape before feeling Stretch’s arms wrap around her and slam her against the ground.

            “No way you’re getting out of this one,” the rubbery one spat.

            Falco could feel her ribs being crushed as the arms constricted. “Great. I would get the lamest death.”

 ===================================

            From another roof top, two heroines watched the scene.

            “Sloppy,” the blonde dressed in a dark blue suit and yellow cape told her redheaded partner.  

            “Should we step in and save her?” the red head dressed in a red and white suit asked, her red cape draping over her shoulders.  

             “Not yet. Let’s see if she’s capable of getting out of this,” the blonde one answered.

            “Well, she looks like she’s in trouble,” the redhead said cautiously, “I still can’t believe Falco’s a girl!”

            Aubrey raised a finger to shush her friend. “If she’s able to take care of it, then we’ll consider her for the team, alright?”

 ===================================

            Falco moved her arms to reach into her utility belt. Feeling the dizziness of oxygen loss get to her, she slipped the tranquilizing darts out and held them carefully in her fingers. Slowly losing control of her fingers, she spun the dart around, carefully trying not to drop it, and stabbed it into one of the arms. At first, nothing happened, and she thought that maybe she stabbed herself instead and just didn’t feel it, but then the hold loosened.

            “Wh-what did you do to my arm?” Stretch panicked. He tried to constrict again, but his arm fell limp around Falco.

            After taking a few deep breaths to pull herself together, she brought another dart out from her utility belt and threw it at Stretch. It hit his neck and his whole body slowly froze. Though she would never admit to it, she thanked Jesse’s insistence on target practice. She raised her head and noticed that Split Second had actually split during her little battle for oxygen.

            Falco turned to glare at Benji, “Officer! Cuff him! Now!” Seeing the sight of Benji actually move towards Stretch assured her that at least one of the Troublemakers was getting arrested. Exhausted, she shot a grapple to the roof top and allowed it to quickly pull her up.

 ===================================

            “She’s pretty good, isn’t she?” the redhead watched Falco lie on the roof to catch her breath.

            “She needs improvement, but for now, we can make it work with the rest of the new Bellas.” The blonde turned to face her friend, “Now change and investigate that scene, Chlo.”

 ===================================

            Moments later, Chloe ran onto the scene just as Benji was loading Stretch into the back of a police truck.

            “Do reporters always dress up for nighttime crime scenes?” her photographer said to her, referring to the tight dress and stilettos she was wearing at the club. “I thought you said you’d be here right away.”

            Ignoring his commentary, she neared the truck, “There was a traffic jam, so I had to run like 9 blocks! What’s the scoop?”

            “Isn’t it obvious?” he looked over to the crime scene that was currently being closed off, “Falco was here.”

             “No. Stop. You saw him?” the reporter turned to examine the scene from where they were standing.

            “Yep. And I got a pretty interesting ‘scoop’ for you. Falco’s actually a woman.”

            Chloe sighed and tried to hide her smile from the news that she had already known after watching Falco from the rooftop buildings away.

 ===================================

            Beca walked back into the black box, wincing at the pain around her abs.

            “You’ve got some ‘splaining to do,” Jesse uncrossed his arms and handed her the headphones, “after you finish your act.”

            Half an hour later, Beca closed her set playing a remix of David Guetta’s Titanium, just as Chloe walked back into the club.

            “Chloe!” Aubrey called for her, acting as though nothing had happened, “They’re playing,” she lowered her voice with a grin, “your song.”

            The redhead smiled to her friend as her arm was tugged onto the dance floor. She yelled over the music to tell her about how her photographer captured pictures of Falco, but from the expression on Aubrey’s face, she confirmed that her information did not get across.

            The music faded into a recorded statement about DJ Mitchell’s “hot mixes” and then the regular club music went on. The crowd began to clear out as Chloe brought her friend to sit down at the bar.

            In the black box, Beca started packing up her stuff as fast as she could after Jesse handed her the paycheck for the night’s set. Though the young brunette was already wealthy from her father’s earnings, she preferred feeling the satisfaction of earning her own money rather than mooching like an heiress.

            After putting all the equipment on the cart, the DJ began her exit, holding onto Jesse to lead her out as she covered face from the press. The two walked out onto the floor, wheeling the equipment behind them. Beca muttered modest thank you’s to the fans complimenting her set, all the while staying cloistered in her hoodie.

            “DJ Mitchell?” spoke a woman’s soft voice.

             The voice was so soothing to Beca that she just had to turn to see who it was. The first thing she saw was red: long, wavy red hair streaming along the woman’s chest. Then blue: light and cold blue eyes that felt more warm and welcoming than icy and bitter. Then a wide smile that made her feel like the pulsing pain around her ribs would just go away if she could see that smile for the rest of her life. Beca gave a weak and tired smile. _Real attractive, Mitchell_ , she thought.

            “Can I just—”

            “Sorry! No questions,” Jesse interrupted. He continued to pull Beca along and she followed, knowing that if she let go of him, she would probably fall from the state of her sore muscles.

            Beca maintained the eye contact she had with the redheaded girl until the doors of Club Barden closed behind her.

            “I’m guessing the night is over given that you can barely stand up,” Jesse stated in a way that sounded more like a question.

            “Home. Now,” Beca said weakly.

 ===================================

            Beca laid in the hospital bed in The Nest. She woke up after passing out in the car. “Did I break anything?”

            “Well, I’m no doctor, but from looking at these x-rays, I don’t think so,” Jesse handed her the x-ray images. “You _do_  have crazy-bad bruises though. What even happened?”

            “Some stretchy guy thought I was cute and he tried to squeeze me to death.”

            “I see your deadpan is still as functional even when you’re barely conscious,” Jesse took the images from her, noticing she was too exhausted to even hold them up. “Well, speaking of barely conscious, I say we keep Falco off the street until you’re actually ready.”

            “I am ready,” the girl said faintly.

            “No, you’re not. I’ve prepared some movies you can watch in bed while you heal. The cops will have to deal without you for a few days.”

            Before Beca could protest the thought of days of movies, she was already tuckered out.

           


	2. Chapter 2

            Jesse trekked into The Nest, hearing loud electronic music and Beca’s voice telling the computer to match bpms and to cut certain instrumentals or vocals. He turned into the main area and paused at the sight of Beca doing pull ups on a high bar. Because Beca was dressed in a sports bra and shorts, her bruises were apparent and Jesse noted that she had been recovering, but she was not ready for that kind of exercise yet.

            “Beca,” Jesse said in monotone.

            She flinched and allowed herself to drop from the bar. She turned to him, “Great. If that shocked me, who knows what’ll scare me out there. We should work on that. Can you write it down on the Falco to-do list?”

            “Beca,” he repeated.

            Ignoring him, she climbed back onto the bar, using a small stepping stool, and hooked her legs around it to do upside down sit ups. She winced each time she bent, but continued regardless.

            Jesse moved to stand in front of her and made sure he had her eye contact, though it was cut off with each sit up. “Beca.”

            She let out a gust of air and a wince, “What?”

            “You’re still injured.”

            “I’m fine.”

            “You’re hurting.”

            “I said I’m fine.”

            “Beca, stop. Get down.” He put his hands on her abdomen to keep her from sitting up once more.

            She let her body dangle from the bar and took a deep breath. “I need to stay in shape. Keep in mind that I’m the one who goes out every night cleaning up this city while you stay home watching movies and booking gigs.”

            “You don’t _have_ to do this, you know? You chose to. Let’s not forget how I was telling you not to 4 years ago, but you kept insisting.”

            “I don’t have to, but if I don’t, then who will, huh?”

            “Someone else. There are cops—”

            “They’re corrupt.”

            “Oookay, good point. But, look, you’re rich. You’re drowning in money. How about instead of using it on all this Falco tech and Falco weapons and Falco whatever, you use it to build a better Barden?”

            “Money won’t stop crime,” Beca began to get down as Jesse held her carefully. “Well, actually I guess I could do that and fight crime at the same time.”

            Jesse paused to look at her and sighed, “Well, it’s a start. I’ll put it on the Beca to-do list. But still, Bec, I don’t want you to get hurt out there. I don’t want you to die when you still have a life ahead of you, alright?”

            Beca whacked his shoulder, “So sappy.” She passed him and went to the computer to save her work on her flash drive.

            Jesse followed, “And you’re using the Falcomp to work on your mixes?”

            “First Falcom and now Falcomp? Please be more creative,” she deadpanned.

            He jabbed her arm. “Speaking of Falcom,” he handed her a towel and a water bottle, “I got it set up. We’ll be on Nest to Street communication when you’re ready to get back out there.”

            “So, tonight.”

            “Not yet. Let’s just stay in. We’ll work on our list of things you need to get better at.”

            Beca looked at him with her infamous “are you serious?” glare. She walked passed him again and took the stair route up to the mansion.

            “I’ll take that as a yes?” Jesse called out and waited until Beca raised a thumb up and walked into the light of one of the many secret passageways in the house.

===================================

            Chloe sat in the chief editor’s office, counting the seconds until the 10 minute “brief meeting” was over.

            “Beale.”

            She turned her gaze from next to, but not quite at Mr. Quinn’s head to his eyes. “Yes?”

            “Distracted? Is Falco no longer interesting to you? You were all over him last week,” he flipped through the pictures of Falco’s recent scene with Stretch and Split Second.

            “Her,” she corrected.

            “What?”

            “We found out that Falco is actually a woman.”

            “Fascinating. Who woulda’ thought, a crimefighting woman who actually gets the job done.”

            It took everything in Chloe’s naturally expressive personality to refrain from rolling her eyes at the misogynistic comment. “And I’m still very interested in her. I mean, not _interested_ in her, but pursuing the story on her. I want to continue investigating Falco.”

            Mr. Quinn eyed Chloe and then glanced down at the pictures scattered on his desk. “Alright. What’s the latest on Falco?”

            “Well… We haven’t seen her since that,” she pointed to the pictures, “so…”

            “You think he, er, she quit?”

            “No!” Chloe answered quickly, “Definitely not. I don’t think Falco is the kind who ever would.”

            Mr. Quinn raised an eyebrow. “Well, alright, Ms. Optimistic, until Falco resurfaces, I’m having you work on another story.”

            “Can’t one of the first timers write it?”

            “You think I’m just gonna let you sit around? You haven’t even heard the story yet!”

            “Okay… what is it?”

            “As you know, Barden’s sweetheart, Beca Mitchell, has recently made appearances in the city. I want you to get the scoop on that. Find out where she’s been, how she’s been, what she’s been doing, all of it! Find out what her father is up to, too!”

            “I didn’t get the memo that _Barden Daily_ was now a tabloid magazine,” Chloe allowed herself one sarcastic quip.

            Mr. Quinn’s look remained serious with a hint of disappointed and Chloe felt that he was going to fire her right then and there for that comment. Instead, he compiled the pictures, slipped them back into the manila envelope, handed it to her, and said, “Get on it.”

===================================

            Beca laid on the couch in the living room, multiple ice packs splayed against her abdomen, and her laptop resting on her chest as she mixed. Jesse sat her feet, scrolling through DJ Mitchell’s business email.

            He turned to look at her. “I don’t understand how Barden’s hero has such bad sitting posture.”

            She tilted the laptop screen down to look at him. “Shut up.” She lifted it up.

            “Hey. There’s some sort of gala going on next month. Seems like some fancy thing.”

            Beca shifted one side of her headphones off her ear. “I don’t wanna go.”

            “If you’re going to start rebuilding Barden with your money, then you’re going to need to start making friends in higher places.”

            “I don’t need friends.”

            “Not even me?”

            “Especially not you.”

            “Rude! I’m RSVPing for it!”

            Beca sat up, her ice packs falling to her side and her laptop sliding to her lap. “Don’t!” She reached for Jesse’s computer.

            “Too late!”

            As Beca and Jesse bickered, the house phone began to ring. The two froze because they hardly ever hear the phone ring. In the age of cellphones, there’s no need for anyone to call the home phone. She knew that all of the Mitchell family’s friends would call her dad and they knew where to reach him. Besides, she hadn’t made very many friends in Barden since Jesse in high school. At least, none who would call her years later through the home phone.

            By the time the fourth ring went by, Beca tried to play off her frightened look with a smile. “Are you gonna get that?”

            “Right.” Jesse stood up and went towards the phone. Holding it to his ear, “Mitchell Manor. May I ask who is speaking? … Oh? An interview?”

            Jesse looked to Beca for her reaction. She shook her head quickly. “She’s actually very busy. Like all the time… No, that wasn’t an excuse. I assure you, Beca is the busiest person in Barden… Well yeah, she’s a DJ and all but—… Well—… No wait. Tonight is no good… Tomorrow? Any time from 4pm to sunset will fit in her schedule...”

            Jesse referred to Beca again, now mouthing out the words “what?!” He mouthed back “sorry!”

            “Okay. She’ll be expecting you. Do you know where the manor is?... Of course you do. Alright. Goodbye!” Jesse hung up the phone, quickly imagining how the next few moments of Beca’s anger will play out.

            “Did you seriously just schedule an interview after I shook my head rapidly? That means ‘no,’ if you forgot.”

            “She’s very convincing,” Jesse said softly. If he was a dog, his head would be bowed and his tail would be in between his legs.

            “Who was she?”

            “She said her name was Chloe Beale. She’s a journalist for _Barden Daily_. They want to do a scoop on you and your life, since you’re one of Barden’s few celebrities.”

            Beca rolled her eyes and laid back down, repositioning her ice packs and her laptop.

            “If it makes you feel any better, I think I’ve read some of her stuff and she’s a pretty good writer. You can trust that even if the story makes you look bad, it will be very well-written.”

===================================

            “Up up, Bec,” Jesse slid the curtains open.

            Beca groaned. “I thought we agreed that you would stop doing that.”

            “It’s 2:47 and you didn’t even stay up late last night! Should I remind you of your date with a cute journalist?”

            Beca groaned again. “It’s not a date.”

            “Yeah. We don’t know if she’s cute yet.”

            “You’re like arranging my marriage. How many goats are you giving her for me? I’m worth at least a whole herd.”

            “I’m actually only giving her a donkey,” Jesse tried to suppress his laugh.

            Beca turned to glare at him but then cowered from the sunlight. She pulled the blankets over her head. “Do I have to do this?”

            “Yes! It’s a commitment!”

            “A commitment that _you_ made!”

            “Be amiable, Bec. If you’re gonna rebuild Barden, you’re gonna need to work on those social skills.”

            “Are you just going to get me to do things by saying, ‘If you’re gonna rebuild Barden…’?”

            “Well, if it’s working, then yes.” Jesse stripped her of her blankets, “Now, go get ready! What if she _is_ cute? You’re gonna want to look hot for a first impression. You know, I read somewhere that a first impression is the most important part about getting to know someone because—”

            “Alright. Spare me the ramble. I’m getting up.”

===================================

            The doorbell echoed throughout the mansion. Chloe took a step back from the door to check the height of the establishment. She concluded that it’s a lot bigger than it seems when she’s standing from the _Barden Daily_ offices and zoning out to the sight of it sitting right outside Barden. Since no one had answered the door yet, she took it upon herself to explore the surroundings herself. She stepped down the front steps to walk around the place until she heard the door unlock.

            “You’re not leaving are you? I mean, you _are_ early. If I recall correctly, we decided on 4pm to sunset,” Jesse stood in the doorframe, holding the door so that Chloe couldn’t see inside.

            “That’s no way a butler lets a lady into a house,” she walked back up the steps.

            “Good thing I’m not a butler, then. But if you want an entrance, I’ll give you one, Ms. Beale,” Jesse bowed, took Chloe’s hand, and let her inside.

            As Jesse locked the door behind them, Chloe gasped at the elegant foyer she was standing in. The wide staircase before her could lead to any possibility of rooms and, as if the inner investigator in her awakened, she knew she wanted to find out what really was up there.

            “Let me take you to the living room. There’s a nice view and soft couches,” Jesse took Chloe’s coat from her and guided her to the room.

            They passed through a long hall and Chloe counted 4 other doors and 9 framed record jackets of some bands she loves and some she’s never heard of. She wrote the names of the unheard of bands in her notepad to listen to later. By the time she looked up from the pad, they had already reached the living room.

            “You can take a seat anywhere. Feel free to look around. Try not to touch anything that looks fragile because it probably is…” Jesse trailed off as Chloe scanned around the room. More record jackets on the walls, a bookshelf, a television, some table furniture—it was a typical living room.

            "I assume you guys have no pets," Chloe stared at the miniature statue of the Winged Angel of Samothrace.

            “Beca would never let me have one, but I know secretly deep down, she wants a dog,” Jesse hovered behind her.

            “I’m sure you can hide one in this big house without her knowing.”

            “Oh. She’ll know.”

            “Well then tough luck,” Chloe moved on to look at another part of the room, “Speaking of her, where is she? We have a meeting.”

            “Right. Should I remind you that you showed up half an hour earlier than expected?”

            Chloe turned to walk to the next part of the room, refusing to answer his question.

            “Okay, I’ll just go grab her. One sec.” He exited the room.

===================================

            “Beca,” Jesse knocked on her bedroom door, “Can I come in? Is there too much skin for comfort in there?”

            Beca opened the door and pulled him in. “Is this fine? Like does this pull off the image of ‘I don’t care about anything’?”

            “Yeah. Chloe’s downstairs.”

            “Is she… scary?”

            Jesse laughed at his friend’s fear of being social. “No! She’s nice. She’s straightforward and _really_ knows how to get what she wants, but she’s nice. And hey,” he nudged Beca’s side, “she’s attractive.”

            Beca turned away to hide her blush, “You dork! Go away!”

            Chloe sat comfortably on the couch, scrolling through her News app.

===================================

            “Hey, sorry she’s late,” Jesse pushed the shy Beca into the room.

            Chloe stood up and walked over to shake Beca’s hand when Beca recognized her as the girl at Club Barden the other night. If this interview could get any worse for her, it’d start after her heart stopped pounding in her chest and she stopped smiling like an idiot.

            “I’m Chloe Beale, a journalist for _Barden Daily_. You know, I actually saw your show a few days ago. You’re really good! You played mixes of some of my _favorite_ songs. I was going to tell you after the show, but I guess you were in a hurry.”

            “Yeah. I had to be somewhere.”

            “Don’t worry about it. There was probably some crazy after party to go to afterwards. We can call it even if you invite me next time.” Chloe winked and Beca felt her stomach nearly explode.

            “Yeah. Crazy after party,” Jesse hooked his arm around Beca’s neck. “So crazy.” He poked her side and she flinched slightly at the pain of her bruise.

            “Anyway, your boyfriend gave me a little intro, so let’s get started!” Chloe started her turn back to the couch.

            “I’m sorry, did you say boyfriend?” Beca asked, glancing at Jesse before they both broke into laughter.

            “Oh! That’s awkward!” Chloe jokingly hit herself in the forehead with her palm, “You two aren’t even romantically interested in each other, are you?”

            “The only romantic interest Beca and I have in common is that on a basic level we’re both attracted to the same thing: women,” Jesse chuckled and Beca attempted to hide her embarrassment by walking to the couch.

            “Oh.” Chloe felt herself smile her, as Aubrey calls it, “creeper smile.” Luckily, she caught herself doing it and stopped before Beca could turn back to see it.

            “Yep. We’re just two friends… Living together…” Beca sat down on the couch next to where Chloe was sitting and shooed Jesse out of the room. “So, the interview?”

    ===================================           

            With Chloe’s notes now put aside on the table and the interview derailing from informational to conversational, Beca felt her social anxiety level decrease. Sure, she was really just trying to ignore it and not let it get the best of her and run away from a person who had made her feel comfortable within the first few moments of meeting, but she preferred to think that she was getting better at this talking thing. Chloe laughed at pretty much all her jokes and she was very touchy. Though Beca displayed her best deadpan expression, she knew that Chloe could see through it all.

            Sooner or later, Beca noticed that she could barely see Chloe’s face anymore save for her bright smile and eyes. She looked out the window and saw the tiniest bit of the sun setting behind Barden.

            Chloe followed her gaze. “Oh, right. You’re free until sunset. I wouldn’t want to keep you late for your next appointment,” Chloe folded her notepad. “Unless… you can skip it.”

            “No can do,” Beca’s mind filled with mental images of Falco, “Thus is the difficult life of a DJ.”

            “Yeah, more like luxurious. You live in a freaking mansion!”

            Beca’s light tone dropped. “It’s my dad’s.”

            Feeling as though she overstepped a boundary, Chloe stood squeezed her hand into her jeans and pulled her phone out. She handed it to Beca, “Plug your phone number in and you better not give me the number of your house phone.”

            “Such an assertive way to ask for my phone number,” Beca said as she tapped on the screen.

            “I don’t hear you resisting,” Chloe took the phone from Beca and checked to make sure it had the correct amount of digits and it wasn’t just (123) 456-7890. She typed on the screen.

            “And what now? Going to update all your friends on scoring a popular DJ’s digits?”

            Chloe gasped jokingly, “You wish!”

            Beca felt a vibration in her pocket and slipped out her phone to check a text coming from presumably Chloe, saying, “Even though you didn’t ask for it, I know you wanted my number.” Beca’s face heated it up as she saved the number in her contacts. “Alright… I’ll just show you to the door then.”

    ===================================

            As the front door shut behind her, the weight of Beca’s anxiety left her chest. Once she composed her sentiments, she made her way to The Nest to return justice to the streets.

            Chloe plopped her notes onto her desk and sat at the computer.

            “What’ve ya got, Beale?” Mr. Quinn’s distinguishable voice spoke from behind her.

            Chloe spun the swivel chair around to smirk at her boss, “My Beca Mitchell scoop.”

            “Really now. That girl’s never been one to say more than three words to a person.”

            “She said a lot more than three words to me.”

            “Well, if you were to have _one_ superpower, Beale, I’m glad it’s your ability to be charming.” He retreated back into his office.

            Chloe spun the chair back around smiling at her boss’s thought of her having only one superpower.

    ===================================

Weeks later…

            “Beca Beca Beca! Wake up, you have to see this!” Jesse patted rapidly at her back.

            With the sunlight and last night’s pain medications crippling a couple of her senses, Beca’s hearing tried to focus through Jesse’s voice onto the news playing on television.

            “… These heroes are no Falco, viewers…” are the words she heared before pushing herself up to watch the television. The screen displayed an in real-time battle between two women dressed in suits fighting off some guy who looked like a giant magnet. They really weren’t like Falco at all. These two had actual superpowers.

            “Beca! I’m glad you actually got up for this! Look at those two! The blonde one in blue has this like a sonic screech that kind of works like telekinesis or something—I’m not really sure yet, but she’s deflected stuff with it. It’s cool.” He pointed to the TV. “And the redhead one in white is just an all-star. Like talk about flight, speed, strength, laser vision! What will she do next? I don’t know! Let’s keep watching!”

            “You talk _way_ too much,” Beca rubbed her eyes as they got accustomed to the light in her room.

            Jesse shushed her and she smiled at the irony. “Where did they even come from?”

            “They’ve been fighting crime nationwide.”

            “Since when? Why have I never heard of them?”

            “I don’t know why I thought you already knew when you don’t even keep up with current events.”

            “What are you talking about?” she reached for her phone to look the two women up. “So, what then? They just have superpowers and they fight crime?”

            “You say that lightly for someone who does the same _without_ powers.”

            “There are so many search results! Why have I never heard of them? Superpowers seem like something I would hear about all the time!”

            “Well, they showed up while you were on your 4 year retreat so news has kind of died down. Everyone’s used to it.” Jesse tuned back to the TV. “Great! The fight is over! You made me miss it, Bec.”

            “What?! You turned away for literally 3 seconds.”

            “They’re fast! They get the job done immediately. They’re like the pros of the crimefighting league.”

            “Pros, huh?” Beca watched the screen to see the camera’s shot of the heroines flying off into the sky.

 


	3. Chapter 3

            Falco swung from building to building, welcoming the chilly air that met her sweaty skin during a night of saving Barden one sketchy alleyway at a time. The first time she’d done this, swung dozens of feet from the street, she could have yanked her arms out of their sockets. The second time, she knew she was safe, but she was still scared of the risk of falling onto cold concrete and Jesse reading “Bird-Freak’s Failed Flight” in the newspaper. But now, after doing this night after night, that fear was gone and all that was left was the exhilaration of wind, streetlights, and adrenaline coursing through her muscles. The moon was high in the sky, shining on her like a spotlight, and she owned it like a lead on opening night.

            She perched on the corner of an apartment complex roof, scanning the city as if it was her city—her world. “J,” she spoke roughly after Jesse had talked with her about masking her voice to further hide her identity. They also discussed using codenames while on Falcom, which Beca found completely ridiculous, but would never admit that is a good idea.

            “What’s up?” the sound of his voice came out through her ear buds.

            “Where to next?”

            “Well, I’m looking through this livefeed of the city map we jacked from the cops, and I’ve got nothing.”

            “Are you sure?” Falco squinted her eyes to get a better look at smoke in the distance. “No fire or anything?”

            “No, why?” He paused. “Are you on fire?”

            “There’s just smoke coming from… I think it’s an apartment on Harper St. I’m gonna check it out.”

            “Wait, you’re not ready for this!”

            Falco shot a grapple and began her flight. “Well, I’m never going to be ready if I just sit around. And by the way, can we work on some other forms of transportation, like, a car or a motorcycle or something? My arms are going to be so sore tomorrow.”

            She heard Jesse sigh and maybe flip some papers around and she assumed he wrote down “car” on the Falco to-do list. She landed roughly on the street in front of the burning building and made a mental note to work on that as well. She ran to Lieutenant Applebaum who was standing behind some cautionary tape. “So, are we just going to stand here and make some s’mores?”

            Benji flinched in surprise before he turned to look at her. “Is this the first time we’re actually speaking?” He reached to shake her hand.

            She didn’t raise her hand back, not planning on building a close relationship with a person who appreciates her work, but is also ordered to consider her a criminal. “Let’s stay on topic. This is a big fire to start by accident… How many people are in there?”

            Benji lowered his hand and faced the fire. “I really don’t know. I imagine there a lot—adults, kids, you know. The fire trucks aren’t here so no one’s been evacuated yet…” He faced the space where Falco used to be, “And I’m talking to no one. Alright.”

            Falco walked through the building; thankfully it hadn’t started falling apart yet. She worked her way through the rooms, instructing the people to run out the front door before the ceiling starts falling apart. By the time she reached the second floor, the firemen had shown up, making her job a little easier. She directed the civilians on this floor to where the firemen were waiting to rescue safely.

            After reaching the third floor, the ceilings and floor had already begun crashing down and she knew that she had to work fast before she and the rest of the people would be burned alive or crushed.

            As she pushed a door down, her cape caught aflame. “Shit!” She took it off and tossed it onto the floor.

            “What’s up, F?” Jesse’s voice sounded into her ear.

            “Other than that my suit isn’t fireproof and I’m in a burning building, all is good.”

            “What? Are you alright?”

            “Yes. I’m good, but seriously, there are so many things we need to work on.”

            Falco felt herself breathing harder as the flames grew. She crawled on the floor, waving each person to safety and coughing the smoke out of her lungs. Bits of ceiling and walls fell by her side simultaneously burning off parts of her suit.

            Weakly, her body collapsed on the floor, unable to move on from her coughing and the heat around her. “This is it. My death is by fire,” she muttered to herself, “Or maybe I'm already dead. Maybe this is hell and I just walked into it.”

            “This isn’t hell and you’re not dead yet,” a voice said from in front of her.

            Falco felt the heat around her go away in a gust of air and she looked up to see the redheaded heroine she had been obsessively researching since the day of hearing of her. “Hair kissed by fire,” Falco breathed out.

            The woman laughed. “A Game of Thrones reference? Now?” She swooped down to pick Falco up. “Can you walk? Have you broken anything?”

            “No, I just can’t breathe,” Falco coughed out.

            “I know,” the woman nodded with a smile, “I’m breathless.”

            Falco rolled her eyes.

            “Okay, there’s like a whole floor and a half of people waiting to be saved. Should I go get ‘em or…”

            Before Falco could answer, the redheaded woman flew up to the fourth floor, blowing out the flames and leaving Falco with her remaining floor.

            Afterwards, with smoke filling the air of the post-fire dark sky, Falco sat on the roof of a building on the other side of the street. Her burned suit made the cold air seem a lot less like it did earlier in the night. This time, it was just painful and humiliating. She watched as this nameless hero talked with Lieutenant Applebaum, made sure the victims were safe, and even posed for pictures with the whole team of firemen. She saw how her charming smile made up for the mask that covered the upper half of her face and how all of the firemen ogled at and flirted with her. Falco laid back on the cold concrete roof and thought about how she wasn’t the equally cute and hot kind of superhero that everyone loves and doesn’t have helpful superpowers such as flying or the ability to put out a fire with her breath. Instead, she was just some girl dressed like a bird and knew how to fight.

            “J, can you come pick me up,” she asked, trying to hide the hopelessness in her voice.

            There was a long pause and she prayed that Falcom didn’t burn while she was in the building. Then she heard some crackling and, “Harper St.? I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

            She continued to lay there and stared at the moon that was no longer hers. Her show found a new lead. She breathed deeply, appreciated the oxygen and not the smoke, and then coughed because of the ash she most likely inhaled.

            “You alright?” she heard the familiar woman’s voice except this time it was soft and quiet. It was as if she was accepting Falco’s moment alone on this rooftop, and was asking for an invitation.

            Falco hoisted herself onto her elbows to get a look at the woman floating in front of her. “I’m fine. What about you? Cold?” Falco motioned to her suit baring a majority of her legs.

            “I’m sort of my own furnace. Come here and feel,” she floated closer to the other girl.

            “Um, no thanks,” Falco looked away, “So, who are you anyway. I mean, you’re so well-known, but no one even knows your name.”

            “Call me Marvel,” she said with her charming smile that made Falco want to vomit out of jealousy but at the same time melt into a puddle. “Now that we’ve got introductions out of the way, my partner, Siren—she’s not here right now—and I are wondering if you’re interested in being part of a team of women from all over the area with certain powers and—”

            “Slow down,” Falco interrupted, “Let’s start off with number one. Who’s Siren?”

            “You know, blonde hair blue suit. She screeches in a way that could shatter a person’s skull if she wanted to—”

            “Okay got it. I’ve seen videos of her doing her thing. Number 2: there are other people with powers around here that actually want to use them for good?”

            “Yep! And we’ve gathered some of the bests of the best to start a team!”           

            “And you think I’m one of the best of the best?”

            “We’ve been watching you, little bird. You’re good for someone without powers.”

            Falco shoved the flattery to the back of her mind. “So, wait. You want to start a team? That sounds so lame!”

            Marvel’s smile lowered into a small frown.

            “Well,” Falco laughed to herself and stood, “Would it be cliché if I said, ‘I work alone’?” She launched a grapple to another building to lower herself to the street. “See ya’ around, Marvel.”

            As she got in the car, she saw the redhead shoot into the sky at intense speed.

            “Making new friends?” Jesse asked while handing her a change of clothing.

            “No.”

 ===================================          

            Beca tiredly walked down the steps into The Nest. “Jesse?”

            “Down here!” Jesse called out from behind the computer. “How are your burns? I ran out and bought a lot of aloe vera this morning just in case they’re too uncomfortable.”

            “Yeah, they’re gross and itchy.” She went over to where he was sitting. Boxes were stacked on the desk and she reached to open one, “What are these?”

            “So, after the fire incident last night, I ordered some stuff from our _supplier_ , making sure to check the ASAP box on the form. Check it out,” he handed her an x-acto knife.

            Beca dug through the endless amounts of packaging peanuts which eventually lead to a set of new suits.

            “Alright, break down,” Jesse stood up and picked up the cape, “Looks different, yeah? That’s because it looks a lot more like bird wings. More importantly, it’s flame resistant! Also, in at least 20mph winds, you can glide. That’ll help your grapple issue until the cycle is built. We’ll practice.” He pulled out the body suit, “Ballistic vest sewn in, it’s insulated, and mildly fire resistant. Also, look!” He grabbed her hand and made her touch the flexible armor plates along parts of the suit. “Fancy, huh?”

            “Okay,” she smiled, “this is pretty cool.”

            “That’s not all, though! Your mask—helm—cowl— _thing_ ,” he pulled it out, “It’s stiffer now. Bulletproof. It’s made up of a bunch of stuff I know you don’t care about. It’s lined with lead in case any folks with x-ray vision get curious. The eyes are covered up for safety,” he pretended to poke her in the eyes before she karate chopped his hand away. Wincing, he continued, “but also because night vision and magnification were applied to the lens. We’ll figure out how those work later.” He tossed it back into the box, “There’s more!”

            “This all sounds so expensive.”

            “Hey bud, you’re a multibillionaire heiress. You have no reason to be frugal.”

            “How are we going to explain all this money being spent at once? It looks like someone just jacked my credit card and spent millions of dollars on military supplies.”

            “They’re actually recorded as sound equipment. And don’t worry about it. If we get a call from the bank, we’ll say that you just have so much money that you might as well spend it all in one place! Anyway, can we get back to this? There are so many more things like new gloves, new boots, new weapons, new utility belt…”

            Beca let her mind wander as Jesse went on and on about Falco’s upgrade. She thought about how underprepared she was last night and how she definitely would have died if it wasn’t for Marvel coming in to save her. Then, she thought about how jealous she was that Marvel received all the recognition and praise. She had to have been making some odd facial expression because Jesse was suddenly asking her what was wrong.

            “Huh?” she snapped back into the moment.

            “I was explaining how we’ve got respirators, and then you made that face. Respirators are awesome, so I know that’s not a reaction to them. What’s up?”

            “I never thought I’d hear anyone say ‘respirators are awesome,’ but you seem to surprise me every day,” she turned away from him. “I’m gonna go shower.”

 ===================================        

            “Beale!” Mr. Quinn’s raspy voice rang from behind her. He slapped the day’s paper issue onto her desk. “Looks like your Falco has lost her spotlight.” The front page’s headline read in big bold letters, “Super Woman Saves Dozens from Fire.” It was paired with a picture of her smiling and saluting with the firefighters.

            Chloe let a small grin escape her as she thought about the night before.

            “Falco was consistently headlining for the last 2 weeks, and now this one. I can’t believe Tom was able to snap the pictures.”

            Her smile faded. “I didn’t know Tom was there too.”

            “Too? You were there and you didn’t get anything?”

            “No, I wasn’t there. My friend, uh, Benji was there.”

            “Lieutenant Applebaum?” he tilted his head and squinted, “I didn’t know you too were close.”

            “Well, we are! We’re friends!” It would take an idiot to fail to detect her lie, and she thanked whoever that Mr. Quinn was not always the brightest.

            “Good going, Beale. Friends with a cop? You better get some inside scoops on cases now.” He dropped a small invitation on her desk, “By the way, I want you to attend this thing—The 20th Anniversary of the Animal Conservatory Foundation on Friday night. Tom’s going with you. Get the story. Have fun.”

            He walked back into his office before Chloe could muster any sort of rebuttal, but she knew she couldn’t say no to a night of dressing up and drinking free.

 ===================================       

            Later that night…

            “J, what’s the wind speed?” Falco asked from the top of the cathedral.

            “25 mph, bird,” he croaked on the nickname, “Sorry. That was a bad one. I’ll think of better.”

            Falco spread her cape, holding the ends in her hands. She waited for a gust and dove off the ledge. “This better work,” she said into the mic. Moments after she had given up hope and accepted the concrete to catch her, she felt herself float. The cape flapped lightly in the wind like a hang glider as she sort of flew through the Barden sky.

            “Are you dead yet?” Jesse said.

            “You wish,” she replied and heard him cheer and applaud at the success.

            She saw a line of red and blue lights and made that her target. Landing was still poor with the grapple so she knew that this was going to be worse. She lowered herself onto the site, nearly tripping over her own feet as they hit the ground. Conveniently, she caught herself before literally running into Lieutenant Applebaum. “What’ve you got?”

            Once again, she saw him flinch. “You’re not a cop, Falco. I’m not allowed to tell you anything. This is a confidential case.”

            “Okay, how about you look over there for a second and I’ll just sneak my way in?”

            “I’m sorry I can’t do that. I’ll have to order my men to shoot if you fail to comply.”

            “Come on, you know I’m not a criminal.”

            “Do I? I know nothing about you. As of now, you’re just a girl in a bird suit assaulting people. I’m actually supposed to arrest you on-sight. You’re lucky I’ve given you about 40 seconds since you got here.” He turned away respectfully, “You should go before any other cops see you.”

            To Falco, “the law” was just a detail. She wasn’t going to let a small threat keep her from a crime scene. She shot a grapple up to the roof of the closed off area and swung her way in through a window. She recognized this place, but from a completely different angle. She snuck her way around to the black box she had DJed in weeks ago. _A murder in Club Barden?_   she asked herself. She snooped around until she saw a door being guarded by some routine officer. Moving quickly, she pulled him away from the doorframe, knocked him out, and whispered an apology before scurrying into the room.

            Making sure to avoid being caught by the medical examiner and the detectives in the room, she crouched behind the sofa, which allowed her to get a glimpse of the now murdered Mr. Carter. She listened to the medical examiner describe his days-old bruises, the 3 .40 caliber sized bullets in his chest, and his missing wallet.

            When they cleared out of the room, Falco searched his desk. She wasn’t proud of taking the evidence, but she knew the guy. It was personal, if that meant anything. She took the files with her before clearing out of the club all together.

            She perched herself on the roof of the club and watched the officers below.

            “I saw you take those files, you know,” Marvel said from behind her, “Didn’t peg you for a thief.”

            Falco turned around, moving her body into a defense stance, “You’re not going to arrest me, are you?”

            Marvel laughed, “I’m not a cop. I just wanted to know why you took ‘em.”

            “It’s not really any of your business.”

            “Of course. Flat out asking would never work with you.” She flew in closer. “You want some help with the case?”

            “I’m not joining your team, Marvel.”

            “I wasn’t even thinking about that! It’s all on you,” she showed off her innocent smile.

            “Well, since you’re not here to invite me again, what _are_ you doing?”

            “I’m here as a friend and I’m seriously offering help with your case.”

            Falco looked at Marvel’s truly innocent expression. “In case you forgot, I work alone.”

            “Riiiight. Then you shoot your little zipline and you’re gone.” The redhead mimicked the motion of shooting a grapple and swinging around. Seeing that the other woman was not amused, she lowered herself to actually stand on the roof. “Look, if you ever _do_ need my help, just say my name. I’ll hear it,” she winked and blasted into the air like a miniature rocket.

            Falco watched her until she was no longer distinguishable among the stars and then started her own flight back to the cave.

 ===================================          

            “Aubrey,” Chloe growled, “Falco is so stubborn! Who _wouldn’t_ want to join a team of hot ladies who fight crime?” She paced around Aubrey’s living room.

            “Should I go talk to her?” Aubrey flipped through her case file nonchalantly.

            “No! With the way you interrogate witnesses in court, you’ll probably scare her off before you can even mention The Bellas.”

            Aubrey smiled to herself because of how great she was at her civilian job. “We don’t _need_ her, you know. We could go back to our old candidates at any time.”

            Chloe snapped her head to look at her and Aubrey did not move at all save for a yawn and another page turn. She knew her friend was right. That option was still on the table.

===================================           

            “We’ve been working on this Carter case for at least 2 hours. How are you not bored?” Jesse laid on the floor next to the computer. He chuckled to himself, “Your feet don’t touch the floor when you sit on that chair.”

            She kicked him in the face. “I’m really close to finding a break in this case. I found out that Carter lived in the apartment building that was burned down the other day.   That _can’t_ be a coincidence. Whoever killed him really wanted to ruin his life first.”

            Jesse responded with a sigh, “I wonder why.”

            “I wondered why, too. So I looked into his financials and look at this,” she waved at him to sit up, “Carter was in so much debt and he was broke, but suddenly, money just appeared in his bank account. And it’s not just like 100 bucks, it’s 100,000. That kind of money doesn’t just pop out of thin air.”

            “You think it’s dirty?”

            “Well, duh. I just need to know where it came from.”

            “You mean who it came from. Oh well,” Jesse laid back down, “even if you do catch the mob boss, so many cops have been paid off. About 85% of the force would let the guy run free even if they were ordered to arrest him. Not to mention the amount of loyal henchman he has to take the blame for him. He’s basically got legal immunity.”

 ===================================           

            That night…

            Beca stood in the crowded room next to Jesse. “I can’t believe you dragged me to this.”

            “You’re supposed to go to these kinds of things since you’re a Mitchell. Just look hot and talk to people.”

            “I don’t want to do either of those things. Can’t I just donate a million bucks to The Conservatory and call it a night? I have better things to do…”

            “Okay, Bec, just talk to like 3 people and we’ll go home. People need to know that you were here if you want to keep your wealthy image.”

            “If there’s one thing I want, it’s for people _not_  to know that I’m here.”

            Jesse snagged a plate of the hor d'oeuvres and passed it to Beca. “I’m going to get a drink. Remember, 3 people.”

            “Geez, when did you become more like my dad than my best friend?” Beca muttered as Jesse moved through the crowd to find anyone carrying a platter of champagne. She looked around to see if she recognized anyone and of course she did. Mostly everyone in the room was a celebrity, and if someone wasn’t, then they were a celebrity’s date.

            “You know, Beca Mitchell, when a lady gives you her phone number, she expects you to make use of it.” Beca was ambushed with a hug from none other than Chloe Beale. She stiffly accepted the embrace while counting the seconds it would take for it to end.

            “You asked for _my_ number, yet I don’t see you making a move,” she said when they broke apart.

            “Touché,” Chloe slipped her phone out of her purse to send a quick message, “Fixed.”

            Beca checked the message on her phone reading “You look nice ;)” and scoffed. “Consider yourself off the hook this time, Beale.” She put her phone away. “So, which one of these rich playboy guys is your date?”

            “You think I wouldn’t get my own invitation and that I’m some millionaire’s trophy girl?”

            “No wait, I didn’t mean it like that!”

            “Relax,” Chloe laughed, “I’m joking. I’m writing a piece on this—20th anniversary. I need to find the guy who started the foundation and snag a brief interview.”

            “All work and no play,” Beca smirked.

            “When you’re a journalist, work and play tend to merge,” the redhead winked. “What about you and your music? You must be busy.”

            “Yeah. Busy.” _But not much with music._

            “Oh, by the way, I heard about the guy who owned Club Barden. That’s really unfortunate. Do you know what’s going to happen to the club?”

            “I don’t. They’re probably going to sell the spot and we’ll see if it remains a club or not.” At the thought of Mr. Carter, Beca’s mind was no longer on Chloe but on his murder case. She had to start working on keeping the lives of Falco and Beca separate. 

            “You know, technically, it was the first place we met,” Chloe’s eyes became sort of hazy.

            Interrupting the conversation, a man appeared, looping his arm around Chloe’s waist and handing her a drink. He smiled to her, “Is this Beca Mitchell?”

            “Yeah,” Chloe said, shimmying out of his hold, “Beca, this is Tom, my photographer.”

            “I’m also her date,” he cut in.

            Beca nodded, “I see.” The conversation, or lack of, was now silent. “I’m going to go get a drink.”

            She backed out into the crowd and pushed through people as she looked for Jesse. Technically, that was 2 people she had talked with and if he counts the “pardon me” she just said to the CEO of one of Barden’s top tech companies, that’ll be 3. She was off the hook until the sound glass shattering changed her mind.

            The glass ceiling of the museum that the gala was being held in had broken into smaller pieces that were now raining onto the floor. Men dressed in all black descended into the room. Beca had spoken with 3 people and that was the deal. It was time for her to go and for Falco to show.

            “Good evening, everyone,” a man spoke loudly from inside the space the guests had opened when the thieves dropped in. “Sorry to interrupt your celebration, but if you could all cooperate for a moment, we’ll be out of your hair in minutes. And if any of you decide to call the cops,” he raised his hands lit with fire, “you’re all roast.”

            The other burglars pulled out large potato sack bags. “Now, if you could put your valuables into the bags—purses, wallets, jewelry, little trinkets, whatever—that would be great.       

            “As for the main reason why we’re here… Can someone point me to the main guy holding this shindig? What’s his name?” He shut his eyes, trying to remember.

            “Larry Nole,” one of the masked men said.

            “Larry Nole,” The main masked man repeated, “Where are you?”

            The innocent people watched nervously as they gave their belongings away.

            “Alright, then,” the man raised let flames loose around the museum. “Watch it burn, folks.”

            “I knew the first fire wasn’t an accident,” Falco swung in and kicked him from behind.

            “Ah, you recognize my work. I’m flattered,” he fired more flames at the crowd running from him.

            “It wasn’t a compliment,” Falco threw a punch into his gut.

            “Arson, we’re gonna go find Larry,” one of the men said to the man of fire.

            “I don’t think so,” Falco whipped a bolo at the henchman, tripping him as he ran into the crowd.

            “As much as I’d love to burn you too, I’m on a job,” Arson shot a flame at her and he took off into the crowd.

            Catching her bearings, she noticed that Arson had disappeared among the people and that the museum was coming down. She knew it was more important to evacuate the civilians than it was to chase after “the bad guy.”

            “Are you okay?”

            Falco looked and saw Marvel reaching a hand to help her up. “Fine,” she launched a grapple onto the chandelier and swung to the other side of the crowd.

            “Hey, Falco,” Marvel followed, “Go after Arson, I’ll evacuate the people and take care of the fire.”

            Initially, Falco was going to reply with a stubborn “I told you twice before: I work alone,” but in the brief seconds that she looked into Marvel’s reassuring expression, she realized that she could never be the admirable heroine that saved the people _and_ caught the bad guy. She was fine lurking in the shadows and secretly saving the day, and if that meant that she’d need a little help every now and then, she was willing to accept it. Her response was an affirmative nod and she took off, looking for a group of thieves and a man with fire for hands.

            “J?” Falco said into the communicator while running through the musem.

            There was nothing but static at first, but then, “Aren’t you glad I set up Falcom in the car?”

            “Yeah. Thanks again.”

            “Alright, whaddya’ need?”

            “Can you tip the police about this? There are seven guys. One of them can throw fire out of his hands.”

            “Wow. Is he hot?”

            She tried to hide her smile, “This is not the time for that.”

            A man slammed into her, pushing her into the display of some artifact. She looked up to see two of the thieves closing in on her. Timing it correctly, she flipped up, kicked their chins, and pushed them back. She tied them up and continued the chase.

            Several rooms later, she noticed a bright light coming from another room. She went towards it cautiously before smelling smoke. _Duh. Fire,_ she thought and ran in. The remaining men were standing around a statue, waiting for her

            Falco threw two bolos at two of the men which toppled them onto each other. Arson turned and shot some flames at her and she raised her cape to block them. She handsprung, dodging the flames, and hid behind the nearest obstacle. “This is it, Arson, you can surrender _or_ I can kick your ass,” Falco called out to him.

            “Or I could burn yours,” he said as a ball of fire nearly hit her foot.

            “Arson,” the last groupee said quietly, “Shouldn’t we just get out? Nole isn’t even here.”

            “Shh, daddy’s working,” Arson jabbed the man’s spinal cord, knocking him out. “Interferences are the worst.” He walked around the room to get a better angle to hit           Falco. However, while he was talking with his henchman, Falco had moved to higher spot.

            He found that out as she glided down, tackling him into a statue. Arson raised his flame covered fists to her face as she pulled out new gear from her utility belt.

            “Toys?” he asked.

            “Yep. They’re new. And cold,” she stuck the ice-powered “birdarangs” to his arms and jumped back. In seconds, he was frozen in ice.

 ===================================

            “So, part of the museum burned down, nobody died, and you caught the bad guys,” Lieutenant Applebaum talked with Falco in the dark away from the other cops, “Don’t think this lets you off the hook. I’m still required to arrest you.”

            “Yeah, but we both know you won’t. When Arson is—you know—, ask him who he was working for.”

            “How do you know he wasn’t just doing this to burn some place down? His name is Arson.”

            “Well, he came in looking for Larry Nole. I don’t think some pyromaniac is going to target one person just to burn a museum.”

            “Larry Nole? The starter of the Animal Conservatory Foundation?”

            “That’s him. He wasn’t at his own celebration. It’s like he knew someone would be looking for him. You should probably find him—tonight.”

            “I’ll get my men on it. Who would want to assassinate a man who wants to save endangered animals? Do you think this is family related?” Benji acknowledged the lack of response and put his hand into the darkness to see if Falco was still there. “Talking to myself again. I’m never going to get used to that.”

 

 

            Falco sat on top of a gargoyle built along the cathedral. She was trying to piece together the connection of Carter to Nole.

            “I didn’t get to compliment your new suit earlier,” Marvel picked a spot next to her on the gargoyle.

            “I don’t think I called for you,” Falco turned to look at her.

            “You didn’t, but I can tell when someone needs to talk,” she looked to Falco to see any change in expression. “You’re still in that ‘I work alone’ phase after I clearly helped you out earlier? Come on, just open up a little.”

            “It’s not really my style.”

            “Right. Dark and mysterious. I can wait here all night for you to share even a word of your thoughts.”

            Beat. “Why are you so interested in me? You could pick anyone else to take my spot on your team, but why me?”

            “I see a lot of potential in you, not only as a fighter, but as a person. I understand that you work alone, but everyone needs a friend. And I’m sure you have friends, but none of them are… super friends.”

            “I admit that ‘super friends’ would be pretty cool.”

            “So, you’ll join the team?”

            She paused. “Maybe.”

            Marvel yelped in excitement which nearly broke the gargoyle off its ledge.

            “Hang on. To be clear, that wasn’t a yes.”

            “Yeah, but it was close!” She put her arm around Falco, “Now tell me about this case. Let’s work it out.” 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chunk of italics at the beginning indicates a flash-back sequence.

            “So,” Jesse held a notecard in his hand, “You’re telling me that you met,” he flipped the notecard over so that Beca could read “Marvel” in her own handwriting. She nodded in response. “And why aren’t we saying her name?”

            “Because she has super-hearing and if I say her name, she’ll come immediately.”

            “She told you that?”

            “I wish I was joking.”

            “And she asked you to join her team of superheroes?”

            “Multiple times.”

            “And you said you’d join?”

            “Maybe.”

            “And what happened after that?”

            “I told her where I was on the Carter and mob-murder case.”

            “That’s very anticlimactic,” Jesse slouched and dragged his tone.

            “Well, I wasn’t finished,” Beca jokingly snapped.

            _Falco and Marvel searched Nole’s home. He was conveniently on vacation in Bruges for the next week according to his personal assistant who Falco woke at 2 in the morning to interrogate while Marvel insisted on waiting until the morning. Luckily, being a superhero didn’t always require a warrant to search a place._

_“Are we just going to do this in silence?” Marvel whispered._

_“I wasn’t sure if a conversation was necessary right now. I mean, we’re searching a guy’s house to find a mob lord,” Falco whispered back._

_“Sounds like a creative first date.”_

_Falco felt her face heat up and she lowered her head behind Nole’s computer screen to avoid Marvel seeing her blush. She cleared her throat, “I wasn’t aware this was a—”_

_“I think I found something,” Marvel spun around with a piece of paper, “Does the name Zarconi sound familiar to you?”_

_“Not really.”_

_“Well, good.”_

_“Why ‘good’?”_

_“It makes cracking the case all the more fun. Come on,” she flew out the window._

            “Who’s Zarconi?” Jesse interrupted.

            “I was getting there,” Beca glared at him.

            _Falco leaped from rooftop to rooftop trying to keep up with Marvel. “Are you gonna tell me who this guy is or do I need to figure it out myself?”_

_“I’d rather just show you.” She held out her hand, “Are you sure you don’t want me to fly you over?”_

_“I’m sure.”_

_“I’m beginning to think you just don’t want to touch me,” the redhead moved her hand away._

_Falco nearly tripped on that last leap. “No, it’s not that. I just—”_

_“Work alone?”_

_“… Sure.”_

_Marvel laughed, “I can’t wait for you to meet the other girls.”_

_She flew down abruptly and Falco basically fell off the side of a roof to follow. Marvel raised a finger to her lips and then silently told her to follow. They took the stairs that led to the basement of a flower shop. The empty underground warehouse lit._

_“Great. Looks like he moved out and found a new spot,” Marvel said as she flew around looking for clues. Unfortunately, it was clean to the smallest spot._

_Falco followed behind her. “So, Zarconi owns a flower shop?”_

_“His wife does. Zarconi is in charge of nearly every underground illegal trade you can imagine.”_

_“In short, Zarconi is the guy we’re looking for.”_

_“See, it would’ve been more exciting if he was actually here. Oh well, we’ll find him,” the redhead flew out of the warehouse._

_The two women sat on the roof of the flower shop. “How’d you know Zarconi would be here?” Falco questioned._

_“I’ve, uh, read a bunch of cases about him,” Marvel answered. “He gets away every time.”_

_“Well, not this time.”_

_“I hope so, Falco. I really do.”_   


            “She’s good,” Jesse leaned back in his chair.

            “I know,” Beca replied.

            “Like _really_ good.”

            “Okay, let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

            “Alright. How are you going to find Zarconi?”

            “Well, earlier, I had Nole’s assistant email him to meet and Zarconi said, and I quote, ‘I’ll see you tonight and you better have what I asked for.’ So, I’m just going to stake out Nole’s place tonight.”

            “Are you gonna bring The M with you?”

            “I think I can handle this without ‘The M.’” Beca mocked Marvel’s new nickname.

            “If you say so. Hey, since that’s out of the way,” he handed Beca her phone, “look who’s wanted to talk since this morning.”

            Beca glanced down to see 2 messages from Chloe, one saying “I’m being a good friend and texting you first. You wanna hang out today?” sent at 1 pm and the other saying “So, no?” sent about half an hour ago. Beca typed out a reply and hit send after questioning how desperate she sounded.

===================================  


            Chloe took a bite from her cookie and looked at Beca sitting across from her. They chose to meet at a bakery after Chloe noted that it was too early for dinner and Beca felt that it was too late for breakfast. They agreed that it was never too late or too early for cookies, though Beca didn’t sign up for hours of conversation about everything and nothing.

            “--What does Jesse do for a living?” Chloe asked, wiping the crumbs around her lips.

            “You know, if you wanted to get closer to him, you could’ve asked. I can give you his number,” the brunette looked at her hands on the table.

            “Beca,” Chloe put her hand on top of the other girl’s, “if that’s what I wanted, I would’ve asked for it myself. I just want to know the kind of people you hang around.”

            “Well, in that case,” she smiled, “he scores movies when he’s not managing my DJ career. He’s composed some great soundtracks. I’ve never seen the movies, of course, but I could imagine them with what he’s written.”

            “So both of you are into the whole music thing, huh?”

            “Yeah. It’s kind of how we became friends. We introduced each other to new music every day in high school and here we are today.”

            “That’s so cool. My best friend and I bonded through competitive collegiate a capella.”

            Beca tried to hold in her laugh, “I didn’t think anyone took that seriously.”

            “Shut up! I got to sing with other girls who love singing as much as I do. Some of the best experiences I’ve ever had were during those years.”

            “Still sounds pretty lame, Beale,” Beca smirked. “Tell me about your best friend or your boyfriend. What was his name... Tom?”

            Chloe grimaced, “He is _not_ my boyfriend. We only had a brief unofficial fling and it wasn’t even fun.”

            “So you guys _did_ have a thing then?”

            “I mean, yeah, but it was more of a no strings attached kind of thing.”

            “Right.”

            “Do I sense a hint of jealousy?” Chloe grinned mischievously.

            “What? No! I have no reason to be jealous,” Beca stumbled over her words, giving herself away completely. She stood up, sliding her hand away from Chloe’s. “I’m gonna go get another cookie.”

            She walked around the counter, feigning to look at the different cookies, when really she was trying to take as much time as possible to put herself together. If there was one thing Beca Mitchell did not need, it was another person to care about. Seriously, Jesse was enough, yet there she was, trying to push back the possibility of feeling anything for Chloe. She knew how these relationships worked. They’re fun at first, but then you get to know the other person and you get tired of what you see. You get so sick of it that you leave. She’s seen it happen; she’s been in the middle of the whole process. It’s better to just keep everyone at a distance so that if they _do_ leave, she won’t need to cope with the emptiness of losing a person. She doesn’t need to do that again.

            “Hey, are you actually going to get anything?” Chloe patted Beca’s back.

            The smaller girl winced at the tap against one of her bruises from fighting Arson the other night.

            Chloe reacted immediately after noticing Beca flinch. For Chloe Beale, that meant a different thing than it would to a normal person and thus Chloe was lifting the back of Beca’s shirt to see what caused the pain. Fortunately, hardly anyone was in the shop save for a man who was seemingly very focused on whatever he was reading and two older woman talking about their children.

            Beca squirmed in Chloe’s grasp. “Could you not?!”

            “Bec, that’s a pretty bad looking bruise. Where do you even get something like that from?”

            “Uh… kickboxing.”

            “No way,” Chloe let go of the shirt, “I kickbox too! We should spar sometime. I can totally kick your ass.”

            “Yeah, right,” Beca said, fixing herself.

            “Or I might let you win because I’d feel bad for beating you up.” Chloe giggled at Beca’s frown and then looked outside the window and noticed the sun setting. “Hey, I kind of have a thing I need to be at. It’s sort of important…”

            Beca realized the time as well and remembered that she was going to catch Zarconi tonight. “Uh yeah, I have a thing too, actually. How funny would it be if we ended up going to the same thing?”

 ===================================    


            Falco sat in Larry Nole’s office, waiting for any sign of Zarconi showing up. It would’ve been helpful if he left a time, but mob lords don’t really do that sort of thing. Suddenly, she heard a creak in the other room. Switching to night-vision, she went to investigate the source.

            She slowly opened the door, trying to get a good look at the room without making any other noises. Then, she saw the familiar red cape and white suit and let go of her breath.

            “Are you just gonna stand there?” Marvel closed the window she flew through. “I heard you coming the moment you took a step off that chair in Nole’s office. Could your feet even touch the ground?”

            Falco chose to ignore the comment about her height and whispered, “Dude! What are you doing here?”

            “Catching Zarconi. And so are you, huh?” She immediately turned her head to listen to the sound of a car pulling up. “There’s a car in the driveway.”

            “So you’re telling me that you set up a meeting with Zarconi… and I set up a meeting with Zarconi. He knows it’s—”

            “A trap!” Marvel yelled as a refrigerator-sized man barged into the house.

            Falco chucked a few birdarangs at his chest and they bounced off, barely affecting him. “You’ve gotta be kidding me…”

            The man charged forward at her and she went in to punch his face before kicking against his stomach and ricocheting off his body. He grabbed her ankle before she made it far and swung her across the room. He felt heat against his back and whipped his head around to see Marvel burning her laser vision into his back. He growled and stormed towards her and she held him back with her own strength.

            “Yer strong, lady,” he spat through his dirty grin. “Not strong enough, though.”

            “I’ve lifted things at least 20 times your weight. I’m more than strong enough.” Marvel swept his legs, toppling him onto his back. She punched him as he tried to sit up and looked over to Falco, “I hope you’ve got something in that belt to sustain this guy.”

            “Why does it seem like these super powerful dudes only work for the bad guys?” Falco muttered as she composed herself.

            The small hero plunged forward, pulling a taser out from her utility belt. She punched it into the large man’s side and watched his body seize.

            “Where’s your boss?” Marvel pressed her foot against his chest to keep him from getting up.

            “I don’t know what yer talkin’ ‘bout,” he looked her in the eye.

            “Oh,” the redhead used her heat vision near his throat, “I think you do.”

            He remained silent as she moved the lasers closer to his jugular. He maintained the eye contact with her, trying to keep a stern look. With each centimeter Marvel aimed the lasers, his tough expression turned into a more scared one. Finally, he pleaded, “Stop! Zarconi is at the wharf—the closed off one!”

            Marvel shut off her heat vision as if it was as easy as turning off the lights. She looked to Falco, seeing the shocked expression on the uncovered half of her face. “Falco.”

            The smaller vigilante reached into her belt to grab the handcuffs.

 ===================================

            “Hey, Marvel,” Falco glided alongside the other woman as they both traveled to the wharf. “Are you alright? You almost killed that guy back there.”

            “I was never going to kill him. I don’t kill,” she said coldly.

            “Well, that’s a relief. What’s the matter then? I’ve never seen you so serious.”

            Marvel didn’t respond and stayed quiet until they arrived at the wharf and called out for Zarconi.

            The two walked onto the wooden deck looking for the mob leader. For Falco, that was really just looking for anyone since she had never seen the guy before.

            “It’s a shame Richy gave me away. You just can’t find a loyal bodyguard nowadays,” a short, broad-shouldered older man stepped toward them. “So, Marvel, new partner?”

            She didn’t answer.

            “Well, anyway, we know how this is going to end. I’ll end up in handcuffs, and then the cops will let me go without even interrogating me. Or maybe they’ll bring it up as a case, and then all the evidence will suddenly seem invalid. Or I’ll be brought to court and the judge will find any reason to end the hearing. We’ve been through it so many times. Isn’t it time to quit?”

            “Not until you’re put away for all the lives you taken,” Marvel hissed.

            “So you have actual evidence?”

            “That, and I’ve heard there’s a killer attorney who’s willing to do anything to keep you in jail.”

            “Yeah, let’s see about that,” he held his wrists out. “Come on, Falco. I know you’ve got handcuffs in your belt.”

            “You’re just going to surrender easily?” Falco cuffed him.

            “I like to pick my fights and I know I won’t win against either of you. Besides, I’ll be out by tomorrow.”

            “Or just tonight,” said a voice followed by a supersonic screech, knocking Zarconi out. Siren approached Marvel and Falco. “I’m sure this’ll be the last time we see him for a while.”

            Falco stood speechless next to the other two women standing before her unable to comprehend the history they have with this man.

            “Falco,” Siren’s voice was stern and Falco wondered how she went from her normal voice to her screeching one, “Will you be joining The Bellas?”

            Falco looked to Marvel, “The what?”      

            “That’s our team name,” Marvel said briefly.

            “That’s… so lame. You’re not serious are you?” Falco scoffed before noticing the obvious offense taken by Siren.

            Siren glared at her, her facial expression bitter and intense, “We’re serious.”

            “I, uh,” the small girl looked at both of them. She stood in the middle of Marvel’s welcoming smile and Siren’s look of constant disapproval. She sighed, “Sure.”

            “Good. We’ll have a team meeting next Monday morning. Take this,” Siren handed her a remote, “It teleports you up to our base.”

            Falco held it, tempted to press the button before Marvel put her hand on top of it and shook her head.

            “I hope you’re not as frustrating to work with as Marvel has described,” Siren flew into the air, using her voice’s soundwaves to keep her off the ground.

            “You talk about me?” Falco smirked.

            “Don’t flatter yourself,” Marvel said as the cops pulled in. “Looks like you gotta go.”

            “I do. I’ll see you, I guess.” Falco shot a grapple to a building, saluted Marvel, and let herself go, cursing how lame the salutation was as she slid through the air.

            Marvel smiled at Falco’s action and went to make sure the cops claimed Zarconi.

           ===================================

            A few days later…

            Jesse walked into Beca’s room, planning to wake her up. He saw that her bed hadn’t been slept in and ran into the cave. She wasn’t there either.

            “Falco?” he said into Falcom’s mic.

            “Busy, J,” he heard in response, “I have a team meeting.”

            Jesse smiled to himself and walked out of the cave.


End file.
